


Empty Vessel, Crooked Teeth

by uglychui



Series: Ceasefire [4]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Depression, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Loneliness, Someone Help Her, Thea's super depressed, am i projecting, probably, who knows anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglychui/pseuds/uglychui
Summary: Thea visits her brother in theHyperionmedbay. Some people around her realize that she needs help.





	Empty Vessel, Crooked Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Empty Vessel, Crooked Teeth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504656) by [fandom_MassEffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_MassEffect/pseuds/fandom_MassEffect), [Riru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riru/pseuds/Riru)



> Hey look, another depressing look into Thea's mind! At this point, I've gotta ask myself whether I'm writing about Thea Ryder or if I'm writing about me. Whatever! No good character was ever made without _some_ projecting! Anywho, I was listening to "I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters  & Men on repeat when I was writing this. which is where the title comes from. Let me know if you guys enjoyed it!

* * *

 

_And it echoes when I breathe_

_until all you see is my ghost_

_Empty vessel, crooked teeth_

_Wish you could see_

_And they call me under_

 

* * *

 

 

“Look at you, sleeping like there isn’t a care in the world. Fucking typical.”

 

Thea sat by Scott’s bedside, spine so straight the turian military would be proud. Her body was tense and rigid with unrelieved stress and a myriad of depressed feelings. Drack, literal grandpa that he was, was the only person on the ship— besides Lexi and SAM— who noticed her deteriorating mental state and constantly tried to comfort her.

 

_“I’m worried about you, kid.” He eyed her intently, daring her to question his concern._

_“Don’t be, gramps. I can take care of myself.”_

_His ever-present frown seemed to deepen. “Look, I’m not saying that you can’t. I’ve seen you wreak havoc on the battlefield. You could show some krogan a thing or two. But even as strong as you are, no matter how hard you try to hide it, you’re hurting.”_

_She remained silent, feeling like a child getting a scolding. She brought her hands together in her lap and started twiddling her thumbs— a nervous habit she’d never been able to break. “It’s okay. It’s nothing I’m not used to,” she heard herself mumble, pathetically quiet._

_Suddenly, she found herself being crushed by two bulky arms and a face full of armor. A rough hand— large enough to crush her skull— stroked her head affectionately. “You’re breaking my hearts, kid.” He held her closer and though it was getting harder to breathe, she couldn’t bring herself to break away, her heavy arms hanging uselessly on either side of her._

 

Her empty gaze fell on Scott’s face, peaceful and ignorant of the shit she was going through. Without thinking, words flowed out of her mouth like smoke.

 

“You know, Drack gives the best hugs. It’s kind of what we’d always imagined a father’s hug would feel like. For a grumpy old krogan, he sure has a lot of love. I wouldn’t dare say this to his face because he’d be really embarrassed, but I love Drack.” She smirked. “Or maybe I will.” Just imagining how it’d play out made her crack a smile. 

 

“You’d like him, for sure. I know you would.” Her vision blurred, but she paid it no mind. “How long are you going to waste away here, you little shit? Every time I come by here, I want to be able to scream to you about my supposedly exciting adventures.” Unforgiving tears fell onto her lap. “But every time—” A single, lonely sob escaped her. “Every time I come here, I just feel so empty! I’m supposed to feel _something_ , aren’t I?” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Aren’t I?” A deafening silence answered her, her brother’s eyes still closed and his body still unmoving— his presence still dwindling.

 

“Answer me!” she shrieked. “Answer me, dammit! Wake up, Scott, you… _fuck_!” Her head collapsed into her hands and she wailed pitifully, rocking herself back and forth.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Thea?” A gentle hand— _such a foreign feeling_ — landed on her shoulder.

 

Her eyes shot wide open, automatically zeroing in on whoever interrupted her unintended slumber. She had remained unmoved otherwise.

 

“Harry,” she greeted, not unkindly. He may have been one of Alec Ryder’s cohorts, but he had treated her and Scott with enough care that it seemed borderline motherly.

 

His eyes seemed to soften as he took in her swollen eyes. “Go get some proper rest. I’ll watch over your brother.” Predicting a protest, he added firmly, “Doctor’s orders.”

 

She checked her omnitool for the time: 1739. She winced— she had previously ordered the _Tempest_ to ship out at 1500. Disregarding her own orders— that’s why the crew had been so reluctant to follow her. Cora would have never have stood for this insubordination had she been named Pathfinder.

 

She stood up from her seat, bones aching and joints cracking. “Sorry, Harry, but duty calls.” She couldn’t even muster the strength to give him a fake smile.

 

“Thea, you need to—” She cut him off, having heard the same plea from Lexi so, so many times before.

 

“It was nice to see you again. Next time, yeah?” She cast her brother one last glance before leaving— chin up, back straight, eyes hollow.


End file.
